I’ve gotten used to the random thunderings of Mischief and Mayhem galloping through the house, wrestling with each other, and occasionally knocking something askew. Last night, however, things got a bit out of hand.
After a 45-minute John-Woo-meets-Jackie-Chan kitty combat and acrobatics marathon, the random thundering and ka-thunks became an extended, cartoon-like series of crashes.
Imagine if you will, a seven-pound cat and a five-foot-high freestanding cabinet, draped in a decorative table runner and adorned with assorted dustcatchers. Leaping onto the cabinet, the cat loses his footing and sinks his claws into the decorative cloth, but gravity ALWAYS wins. Down comes
– the cat
– a glass tray with seven pillar candles
– two Roomba virtual wall generators
– a small brass desk clock
– a magnifying glass on a heavy metal base
– a brass and leather coaster
– a thirsty stone coaster
– a ceramic alligator
– a box tissues
– and a briefcase full of knives.
Double your pleasure, double your fun — each of these items bounced off a wooden chair before hitting the floor. Mayhem sought refuge under the chair. His sister Mischief perched on the top of the couch across the room, bobbing and weaving as if taunting him with chants of “You’re gonna get in trouble! You’re gonna get in trouble!” But what can you do? Discipline means nothing to a cat, and especially not to Mayhem.
As I swept up the shards of alligator and wax, the little hellion decided that the dust mop was the greatest carnival ride ever.